


Easy?

by Falconette



Category: Free!
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Sex, Smut, With A Twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 20:49:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11813925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falconette/pseuds/Falconette
Summary: You hooked up with Haruka without trying to give your encounters any meaning, but what is he thinking of it? Or Makoto?





	Easy?

**Easy?**

Seeing a swimmer usually meant spending Sunday afternoons by a poolside if you really wanted to _see_ him. There was always training or a swimming meet somewhere and Haruka and Makoto, as junior swimming coaches and occasional competitors, either raced or assisted the kids they have been working with, so I sometimes tagged along or showed up near the end to see the finals. By the look of it, this meet was about close, pending only a perfunctory speech by the organizer.

I have noticed the young coaches amid kids wearing swim caps in colors of their club, giving final instructions, packing them up and sending them home. We made eye contact and I waved at them, a bit out of place on spectator benches between ambitious parents and swimming aficionados.

I figured out Haruka was coming home with me when I noticed the askew look Makoto cast in my direction while the two of them were talking on the other side of the pool, separated from the spectators by a low fence.

It was nothing personal. I got along with Makoto just fine until Haruka and I started getting together without him. Makoto didn’t exactly oppose the two of us hooking up, but he didn’t seem to like sharing his friend with somebody else. In his defense, the better I knew him, the more certain I was there was no malevolence in his behavior, but I didn’t intend to give up Haruka just because it didn’t suit Makoto.

When I first met the two, I was convinced they were more than friends because it was clear they shared a lot of history, acted like an old married couple, eerily reading each other’s minds and spending most of their time together. It made sense; they moved to a big town where nobody knew them so they could live together as lovebirds. It was all fine until Makoto started acting weird towards me for no apparent reason, prompting me to raise my awareness when around them and eventually noticing Haruka’s subtle, and I mean _subtle,_ advances.

I have never considered any of them as sexual partners, thinking they were already involved with each other, but the more interest Haruka showed, the more open to the idea I became. He was handsome, had a swimmer’s build (and who doesn’t like that?)  and was mysterious enough to make me want to have a try. I was single, open to casual encounters and gave him a chance, to Makoto’s despair.

Across the pool, Makoto noticed me still looking at him and forced a smile in my direction. You could spot sourness even from that distance, especially on his honest face. That guy couldn’t hide something that was bothering him to save his life. On the other hand, Haruka, the guy I was sleeping with, was like a closed book. He must have noticed his friend’s disapproval but did not show it or comment on it in any way.

It was complicated.

Haruka came over to the fence, a towel draped around his shoulders. As usual, his expression was dead serious and by looking at him I could never guess whether they had a good or a bad result, won or lost. Or anything else, really. Mr. Pokerface.

“I’ll be out in ten minutes,” he declared, implying I was to wait for him. I nodded, sighing inwardly. He may not possess subtlety or gentleman’s manners, but at least I have never caught him lying or faking.

By the time Haruka emerged from the building (he probably lingered in the showers, again), I was already engaged in an awkward attempt at a conversation with Makoto who, his hair dried and bag packed, came out first. Not that Makoto was impolite; he smiled and talked a lot, too much in fact, but I had a distinct feeling of insincerity behind it. When Haruka joined us, he swiftly excused himself and went his way in long, purposeful strides.

I looked at Haruka with raised eyebrows, but he seemed unperturbed as usual, so I didn’t push the subject.

“We will get something for dinner.” he said, turning towards the first kombini in sight. He learned the hard way that grilling fish in my miniature kitchen was out of question, so he took that into consideration when buying cooking ingredients, but that still didn’t mean I got to choose what we’ll eat. I shook my head, smiled and followed him inside the shop, reminding myself how fortunate I was I had a guy who would voluntarily prepare food for us. None of my friends could say that, so I just let him fill the basket with whatever he deemed necessary, concentrating on the rippling magic his back muscles weaved beneath his thin shirt. Ah, swimmers.

Back in my apartment, we realized we were less hungry for food and more for each other, leaving the shopping bags on the kitchen counter, shoes scattered in genkan and clothes all over the floor en route the bedroom.

See, Haruka is drawn to wet places, like the hidden crevice between my legs for example. Without any ado or warning, he used the short interval of complete public intimacy in an elevator to wriggle his fingers inside, pressing his lips against mine to silence my gasp of surprise. We haven’t seen each other for a while and I wanted him badly too, but he just never struck me as such a direct type. I moved my head back to study his eyes, cool and blue and unreadable as ever.

“Nice to see you too.” I said, smiling uncertainly, tickled by tips of his wandering fingers as I fumbled for the keys.

On the bed we slowly kissed and caressed each other, blindly exploring topography of our bodies, turning our skin into a single hot, sensitive erogenous zone. Haruka licked his fingers and smeared them across my clit, preparing the slick slide to my well, arousing himself in the process. My hand cupped his blooming erection, feelings its blunt head, its emanating heat. I laid down on my side, pulling him next to me, leading the tip of his penis to the soft spot between my legs that pulsated, already stimulated. We kissed some more with his cock between my closed thighs, our bodies making slow, suggestive motions, riling ourselves up. I felt him come in and out in between the soft insides of my thighs, brushing against my clit in the process, driving me slowly insane.

I wanted him inside and knew he would not make the first move.

So I laid back and hitched my knees up, almost to my shoulders and Haruka readily followed the shift in our positions. Lying on top of me, he settled onto my belly and chest, carrying most of his weight on his elbows.  A perfect position for a long, thorough kiss while his hips made miniscule movements to settle in more deeply and comfortably.

That was when his magic started.

Molded to my body, his anatomy perfectly complementing mine into a seamless joint, he went in deep. Like sinking beneath the waves, the hot depths nesting and titillating him, touching me in all the right places, the sensation making me weak and sweet and happy. The trick was to let myself go completely, relax and let him dance with me by attuning to subtle motions of my body, the natural rhythm of the sea integrated in him now overflowing through me. It was lulling, almost hypnotic.

Making love to him was like floating freely on the surface of an ocean, letting small waves sway and enchant me, take me to the other shore in my own sweet time, with all the patience in the world but inevitably, his hips sinking between my thighs without us ever really separating, his rudder attentive to my rhythm, sailing my ship patiently onward, towards a slow, long, lazy orgasm.

Before him, I never knew reaching ecstasy could come so easily. He made it simple and natural, without strong thrusts, pounds, gripping and clutching I performed with others in effort to crown our sweaty grappling with an orgasm. Not that there was anything wrong with that either, but with Haru it was different just like Haruka was different.

He was as far inside me as he could go, adjusting the angle with his pelvis, making me shift my buttocks in return, virtuously pushing my buttons. His eyes were closed, the look on his face solemn and concentrated as he kissed me gently, taking his time to play with my tongue and suck on my lover lip.  I felt immediate responsive throbbing of my clit when he did that and he must have too, because he applied more pressure to the sensitive area with his pubic bone, making me exhale in pleasure. He was playing me like a finely tuned instrument, intuitively and by ear.

Inside, he had found the sweet spot and massaged it ceaselessly with his hardness, pushing himself towards the edge simultaneously. I mewled and opened my legs wider, surrendering to his body, letting him know he was doing all the right things. One of his thumbs was lazily, absentmindedly circling the lobe of my ear and caressing tufts of my hair on my temples, making me close my eyes and expose my neck so Haru’s lips could get to the skin there. He understood the cue and I shuddered under the melting sensation of his hot mouth advancing slowly down to my collar bone.

By my ragged breathing he knew I was close so he stopped movements below his waist, gathering stamina for one last, uninterrupted go and concentrated on kisses instead. I meekly returned his caresses, open and ready, content by knowing my reward was within the reach, just waiting for me. I was in no rush, there was nothing fast and furious Haruka’s world.

Soon, he started moving again, sending impulses of pleasure from deep inside my belly to every nerve in my body and, after I had set the pace, I relaxed and helplessly let him take me all the way there. It was so easy I had to smile even as I was catching my breath and drowning in ecstasy that I could feel coming from afar, then moving through me like a freight train of endorphins, then basked in its reminiscences as it passed. Haruka was with me all the way, attentively taking me through the experience and riding out my internal spasms, allowing me to feel every last drop of it. It lasted and lasted.

After a while, when I was ready to open my eyes again, I saw him poised on his elbows above me, his face glowing with a thin film of perspiration. The blue eyes were studying me, but there was also something else I learned to discern in their depths, a hunger that was only occasionally allowed to surface. A cold fire. He was still as hard as a rock inside me, waiting patiently on his turn.

“Want me to ride you?” my voice was hoarse and sticky. He readily nodded and moved away, allowing me to sit up. My limbs were still shaky and I did my best to pump some strength in my body even though all I wanted to do was to lie down and chill.

Haruka was already supine on the bed beside me, his penis sticking up in the air like a flag pole, the eyes underneath black tresses alive in silent anticipation. I straddled his narrow hips and sank into my reserved seat on his crotch, his erection penetrating me smoothly. He gasped, his eyes fixed on mine, waiting on my next move. I didn’t keep him waiting for long, moving my hips slowly back and forth, then, picking up the pace, extruding a gasp from his throat.  I smirked and his eyes widened in voluntary terror.

Although he would never admit it, he liked to be swept away into a maelstrom of frenetic fucking, which he was for some reason unable to initiate himself. It took me some time to figure out this kink of the usually cool and unperturbed Haruka, and I exploited it whenever I could. He never complained, never made an attempt to stop me, it was a silent secret we shared.

So I leaned onto his chest, grabbing handfuls of firm pec muscles and began grinding my buttocks across his balls, the inner walls of my pussy driving him relentlessly overboard. Haruka set his jaw and ground his teeth in effort to remain in control, his eyes narrowing under furrowing brow, his cheeks reddening. But he didn’t make a sound of protest, not even when his hands clawed at the sheet and held it in white knuckled grip. I could feel him hardening and getting ready to blow, so I stopped and observed him, my smile widening.

Winded and sweaty, his muscled body was tense and slightly trembling, poised between anticipated pleasure and the terror of losing his cool. His eyes looked up at me, a defiant glare in their blue shine, so I started riding him again, enjoying the sight of that stubbornness thawing away with every thrust of my pelvis. I worked him up to the pivotal point again, halted and this time he couldn’t help himself, his hands flying up with a will of their own, grabbing my waist and pushing me back down onto him. Haruka slowly exhaled and stilled, seesawing on the verge of orgasm.

I let him cool down a bit, waiting to make eye contact again. His brow unfurrowed as he panted and his lids opened, the blue orbs meeting mine, tamer but still far from submissive. I raised a playful eyebrow at him, making the corner of his mouth crook into a slightest of smiles. I started working my crotch again, maintaining a steady rhythm that didn’t allow him to backtrack into his shell of aloofness. Knowing that any resistance was a losing battle, Haruka’s grip on my hips became gentler, the look in his eyes softer. I fucked him fiercely, feeling his flesh rub against my slick insides, seeing the effects in the tensing of his shoulders, his chest and arms, in the shallow breaths and almost pained expression he was obtaining. Haruka’s mouth silently opened wider and wider, panting, as he was starting his free-fall into the bliss. A deep, long moan finally escaped his throat as he came with his eyes closed, his hips instinctively working the last few thrusts deeper into me.

Haruka remained like that for a long moment, before opening his eyes again. Already, the unreadable façade was on, so I slid off and stretched next to him, content not to move for awhile. By now, the afternoon had turned into an evening, the streetlights from the outside providing discreet and cozy feel.

“Why doesn’t Makoto like me?” I verbalized the thought that had been going through my mind, stirring the silence. I wasn’t even sure if Haruka’s was awake.

“He is afraid you will break my heart.“ Haruka responded immediately and flatly. He wasn’t sleeping after all. “He thinks you are not committed.”

I sat up in shock, “What does that even mean?”

Haruka rolled his shoulder in a slight shrug, his eyes, in deep shadows of his thick tresses, slowly inspecting my room as if seeing it for the first time, his lips weighing his words. “You are a young woman, living alone, bringing strangers in your home. I cannot even be sure if I am the only one who comes by.”

Corner of his eye was on me now, watching me with that alert, silent presence of his. This was not a passing remark, Haruka didn’t talk casually. He expected a negation or a confirmation. I deliberately stayed quiet and completely still, surprisingly hurt by his implications, even though I admit I could see his point. He gave me another moment to comment, then continued when my mouth remained pointedly shut.

“We came from a very different place, we just don’t know how city girls are.” He added more quietly, almost apologetically, belatedly realizing his faux pas.

“And you are ‘committed’?” my voice was raspier than intended.

Haurka promptly nodded, his face set in his dead serious impression, declaring calmly, ”I like you.”

It was that simple. Against my will and resolution to pout, my heart started to melt.

“Well, you can tell your friend that he doesn’t need to worry.” I strove to sound stern, but the feeling of wounded pride was dissipating into thin air. “I too… am committed to you.” I smiled at him and he actually smiled back, softly but genuinely, and that was enough for me. Simple.

“Also,” Haruka continued after a while, like he deliberated with himself whether to go on, “I think he likes you too. I only realized that after we’ve…” He looked at me, suddenly uncomfortably open.

“Oh,” I twisted my brow, remembering all the little things about Makoto, the situations and remarks that seemed somehow out of place at the time, then realizing how what Haruka and I did could affect their friendship, “I don’t mean to come between you two.”

Haruka shook his head slowly, looking away, his smile, somewhat sad, remaining.

“Makoto never said anything. He never would, that is how he is. I should have seen it.”

“If you knew, would you still have approached me?” I asked in a small voice.

Haruka only moved his head in reply, but by then the room was too dark for me to see his face.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, I didn't intend to end in such tone, I meant to stop writing basically after Haruka's confession but the story took this turn by itself and I decided to leave it as it is. Leaves room for an interesting plot.


End file.
